


Shrink

by sleep



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-11
Updated: 2015-05-11
Packaged: 2018-03-30 01:02:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3917386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleep/pseuds/sleep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Megatron tries out his shrinking ability with the ship's shrink.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shrink

It was a calm evening aboard the Lost Light, and Rung and Megatron had decided to meet up at Rung's office slash quarters. They were drinking some energon, quietly enjoying each other's company. Rung had caught Megatron staring at him but then quickly turning away when he saw Rung noticing him several times that evening, but he was not going to put him on the spot unless he wanted to.   
  
Luckily, Megatron wanted to be put on the spot. The grey mech eventually put down his cube, collected his hands in his lap, and spoke. “Rung, there is something I would like to try out with you.”  
  
“Oh, Megatron?” Rung put down his own cube, giving all of his attention to Megatron, smiling calmly. “And what might that be?”   
  
“I would like to...” Megatron stared uncertainly at the smaller mech. “Actually, it might be easier to just do it. Erhm, if you could sit on the berth please?” Megatron made his way over to Rung's berth in a few long steps, before stopping to wait for the psychiatrist to follow. Rung took many more steps to pass the same distance, but he was soon by the berth, and then on the berth, and then sitting down while staring expectantly at Megatron.   
  
“And now?” Rung asked curiously.   
  
“If you could retract your panels please.” Rung complied swiftly, revealing soft valve lips and a relaxed – but slowly perking – spike. Megatron generously covered the spike in lubricants, before retracting his own panels. It was usually the other way around.   
  
Megatron then proceeded to climb onto the berth, positioning himself over Rung, and then sitting down on his – far too small – spike. Rung was about to inquire about what Megatron had in mind – it was an odd arrangement – when he put a finger to his lips, and told him, “Watch.”  
  
And as Rung watched, the gargantuan frame hovering above him – carefully not leaning his weight on his frame – started shrinking. The process went slowly, but it was not long before Megatron was closer to Rung's height than his usual one, and still he shrank. The previously spacious valve around Rung's spike started tightening, the walls contracting around him as the big mech shrunk to Rung's size.  
  
Yet Megatron kept shrinking, and as Rung's spike started protruding deeply into his valve, he felt lubricants forming as the walls started stretching to accommodate to the now big object inside him.   
  
Megatron eventually stopped shrinking, and Rung was left with a mech a couple heads shorter than him in his lap, gasping in air while his body got used to the sensation of the suddenly big spike inside him.  
  
The grey mech's plating was bulging slightly at his abdomen, and when Rung stretched out a hand to touch the spot, he could clearly feel the small mech shiver around him. Megatron was completely shafted – Rung's spike was innocently nudging his ceiling node – but his valve had barely had any time to get used to it yet. The grey mech was breathing in gulps of air as he adjusted.  
  
Megatron then turned his head towards Rung, his red eyes staring hungrily at the psychiatrist's lips. “You feel so... So good inside me. So big, so filling...” The words came out unsteadily, the warlord's body shaking as he spoke. He then leaned up and lifted himself up a little, grabbed a hold of Rung's cheeks, kissing him passionately. Rung reciprocated the kiss, leaning towards the now small mech as he let himself sink down on the spike again.   
  
Megatron moaned into the kiss when he seated himself again, his valve stretched but still not used to the size inside him. Rung's hands then began to wander, stroking seams and areas he usually was unable to reach because his arms were too short. Megatron felt ripples of pleasure run through him from the light touches, and before he knew it the kiss and ended and he sat leaned towards Rung's chest, panting for cold air.   
  
Rung took the opportunity that his free mouth gave him to start nipping at exposed neckcables, driving out moans and whimpers of the small mech. It took an effort for Megatron to get enough of a hold of himself to start moving again, slowly starting to lift himself up, before slamming down again, impaling himself on Rung's spike, and making sure that his ceiling node was reached with every thrust.   
  
Rung kept licking at sensitive spots while massaging him in delicious patterns, so it was all Megatron could do to keep moving, an actual rhythm be slagged. And it was only a careful combination of clenching and moving that finally drew out a moan from Rung's otherwise calm and composed figure, encouraging the ex-warlord to make a bigger effort.   
  
It then became a battle of pleasure, each of the mechs doing their best to lick – in Megatron's case around the spark-casing and chest – and stroke – small fingers could reach places Megatron's large servos could not – but despite his efforts Megatron found himself losing. If getting lost in pleasure could be called losing.   
  
And before he knew it, Megatron found himself thrusting himself down on the spike as fast as he could, clenching down and moaning wantonly, letting overload take a hold of him. He went over the edge with Rung holding him tightly and with his spike lodged deep inside his valve, thrashing as he felt a wave of pleasure surge through him. His lips found Rung's, and he locked them together as he rode the pleasure, muffling his scream of “Rung!” in their shared embrace.   
  
When Megatron came down from his high, he could feel transfluid running out of his valve and down his thighs, easing his movements even more. But while he felt good and warm, he realized something. Something completely unacceptable; Rung had not overloaded yet. And while the psychiatrist smiled down at him like nothing was wrong, he would not stand for that.  
  
Megatron lifted himself away from the spike, his callipers clenching down on nothing, missing the stretching already. He then climbed down, positioning himself between Rung's legs. The psychiatrist's valve was leaking a little lubricant already. Megatron smiled as he leaned down, and begun his task.   
  
Sucking, licking, twisting his glossa around the node and the lips, dipping inside and tasting the well-known sweetness of Rung, that was all familiar. But his glossa was smaller, and he could not reach as far as he usually did.   
  
The grey helmet was buried between Rung's thigh, concealing the movement of his hands as Megatron let his fingers join his glossa. His fingers joined in the effort, carefully stretching as he licked, slowly shattering Rung's composure, till he too was a panting mess. Rung reached out a hand and petted the small mech's head as he worked, making him smile into the soft, warm lips of Rung's valve.   
  
It did not take long for Megatron's skilled tongue to rev Rung's engines, and it took even less to eventually drive him overboard. Megatron kept licking as the orange mech overloaded, drinking in the transfluid as it presented itself.   
  
But the supply of transfluid soon stopped, and Megatron moved backwards a little, freeing his mouth from the valve. He got no longer. “Um. Rung?”   
  
Rung moaned again. “Y- yes Megatron?”   
  
“May I please have my helmet back?” Rung stared at him in confusion for a few nano-kliks, before realizing that he had subconsciously grabbed a hold of the grey mech with his legs at some point, locking him in position.   
  
“Of course! Sorry.” The legs relented, and Megatron was free to climb up on Rung and lie down on him again, resting on his chest.   
  
“We should do that again.” Megatron buried his face in warm plating, smiling contently.  
  
Rung smiled down as the unusually small mech. “Yeah. Sure.”

 


End file.
